


The Last Five Years

by Eveanyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean and Cas live happily ever after, Destiel is the end, Doomed relationship (Lisa/Dean), F/M, Forbidden Love, Happy Ending, M/M, author!Dean, based on a broadway musical, editor!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:17:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eveanyn/pseuds/Eveanyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Broadway musical, The Last Five Years. Lisa and Dean's relationship is doomed from the beginning, and Dean finds love with his editor, Castiel. This is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Still Hurting/Shiksa Goddess

**Author's Note:**

> Lisa is starting at the end of the relationship, and going backwards. She'll end her POV at the beginning of their relationship. Dean is starting at the beginning and working his way forward, and will end at the end of their relationship. 
> 
> Like I said earlier, this is based on the musical, so chapter titles will reflect the songs they're based off. 
> 
> A few times throughout I'll quote the musical. Please note these lyrics do not belong to me.

**2014**

Lisa looked around the apartment. It was the same, but not. The couch she’d bought at Crate and Barrel with her mom was there, the blanket they’d gotten as a wedding present still folded neatly along the back. The bookshelf was still in the corner, but now there were only four lonely books, one of them tipped over on its side like a fallen soldier, a casualty of war.

 She knew that if she walked in the bedroom, the bedspread would still be neatly tucked in, the pillows she insisted on resting gently against the headboard. But half of the closet would be empty, t-shirts and ties and worn, ratty jeans would be absent, along with the suitcases she’d bought just before their honeymoon.

Clutching house keys to her chest and forcing herself to move, Lisa surveyed the tattered remnants of her life. The light filtering through the windows seemed different; it was cold and pale and completely bereft of any warmth.

 It was really over; Dean was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

**2009**

Dean walked aimlessly around New York City with his hands shoved deep in his leather jacket. He was pissed off. The beginnings of a great plot rush through his head and then … nothing. Nada. He’d been sitting in his apartment for two days, staring at the cursor blinking next to the same two paragraphs that had been there since the idea popped into his head.

Finally he’d decided he had enough, grabbed his coat and keys, and stomped out the door.

 It was dusk when he got hungry enough to meander into a bar. He took a seat in a booth near a mini stage set up in a corner. He picked up a sticky plastic menu and perused it. He looked up when a smoky voice asked, “What can I get you, hon?”

The waitress was stunning with dark hair and eyes he would describe as bister or sable. She was long and tan, and in the quick moment Dean took to check her out, he didn’t see a thing about her body he didn’t like.

He flashed his most charming smile. “What have you got on tap,” he glanced down at her nametag, “Lisa?”

Lisa cocked her hip and leaned against the table while she rattled off the (surprisingly large) selection on tap. He chose a dark beer with a wink, and she gave a wide smile in return before going to get his drink.

It was a slow evening at the bar, with only a few scattered clusters of patrons. Dean took the opportunity to chat (flirt shamelessly) with Lisa.

“This place is pretty dead. Is it always this bad?” Dean took a drink of his beer and studied her. She had graceful lines, but she wasn’t quite what he would refer to as ‘delicate’. She had an inner strength about her, easily visible even though they’d just met.

“It comes and goes. This one time a group of teenagers came in and tipped me with a button, a plastic whistle, a few quarters, a not-blown-up balloon, and a thimble. They were broke but they really wanted coffee to get out of the cold.”

Dean laughed. “A thimble?!”

“Yeah. It was the best tip I’d ever gotten, honestly, because it was everything that they had. Actually,” Lisa gestured to her apron where Dean could see a small blue button, “I kept the button. It reminds me that there’s still kindness in the world.”

Dean started to get an image in his head, a flicker of an idea. Maybe talking to Lisa was helping his writer’s block. “So, do you do anything besides hang out in this joint?”

When Dean found out she was trying to make it as an actress on Broadway, he tilted his head to where the karaoke machine was set up. “Go on, show me what you’ve got.” 

Lisa blushed slightly. “I can’t right now; I’m on shift.”

“When do you get off?”

“Half an hour.”

“So let’s say in a half hour you take off that apron, let me buy you a drink, and you can dazzle me with your amazing karaoke skills.”

Lisa studied Dean for a moment before she nodded. “Make it two drinks and you’ve got a deal.”

He winked. “You’re on, gorgeous.”

 

Half an hour later found Dean watching as Lisa talked to the DJ before she stepped onto the stage and grabbed the microphone. A short intro played before Dean was entranced.

 _(Turn around) Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round  
(Turn around) Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears  
(Turn around) Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by  
(Turn around)_ _Every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes_

Dean hadn’t honestly expected her to be good. He thought he’d give a false compliment and try to talk his way into her bed. Her voice was rich and smoky and _Jesus_ , Dean didn’t have to lie to tell her she was amazing.  
  
 _(Turn around) Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I’m lying like a child in your arms_  
 _(Turn around) Every now and then I get a little bit angry and I know I’ve got to go out and cry_  
 _(Turn around) Every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see the look in your eyes_

Suddenly a plot unfolded in Dean’s mind. He could see the heroine; a strong, knowledgeable witch with a voice like a clear bell. He could see the problems that would befall her, causing her to go on a long and arduous quest to save her family.

_Your love is like a shadow on me all the time_   
_I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark_   
_We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks_

Staring at Lisa, Dean knew he’d found his muse.

_Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I’m only falling apart_   
_There’s nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart_

Dean clapped loudly and obnoxiously when she got back to the booth and slid in next to him. He put his arm around her shoulders. “You are … fantastic. Just, wow. You’re gonna make it, Lisa. You’re gonna go far.”


	2. See I'm Smiling/Moving Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2014: Lisa is doing a show in Ohio, and Dean comes to visit her.
> 
> 2010: Dean gets an agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, kiddos, Lisa's POV is starting at the end and working her way backwards, Dean's POV is in chronological order. Years are posted.
> 
> Big thanks to ECKC for being awesome betas.

**2014**

 

For the second year in a row, Ohio sucked. No cable, hot water, Vietnamese food, or Dean. The last one was sitting next to her, but Lisa had the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her the part of him that mattered most was back in New York.

Still, Dean had actually come to see her, to support her career. It had to mean something that they were able to sit on a pier and spend time with one another. “I think you’re really going to like this show,” she said. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t suck.”

He laughed. Lisa couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten Dean to laugh. “I guess I can’t believe you really came,” she admitted.

Dean stared out at Lake Erie as the waves lapped against the pier. “Of course I came to be here for this. Wouldn’t miss it. But, I’m not going to be able to stay tonight, Lis.” He wouldn’t look at her. “There’s a review for _Inception_ tomorrow; I’ll be driving all night as it is.”

There was a pause. “Whatever. If you have to, then you have to.” She knew she was being passive aggressive. She knew it. But she couldn’t help it. She also knew she’d hit a nerve.

Finally he turned to look at her. “What, Lisa? Do you think I should put my career on hold because you want some coddling time? I’m here. I’m here for you. I made Balth reschedule a book signing to be here for opening night because I fucking believe in you and I wanted to show my love and support for my wife.”

Lisa looked away. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “I might be your wife, but I’m not really your love, am I?”

Dean paused. “Do you want to have this conversation now, before the show?”

“Oh, god.” That meant it was true. She could feel the panic rising up. It clawed at her chest, struggling to escape. It was tough to breathe.

“No. Oh, no, sweetheart.” Dean gathered her close in his arms. It felt just like it did when she’d wake up in the middle of the night with a nightmare. He’d hold her until her breathing slowed and she went back to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Dean was there to make sure everything would be all right. 

Only this time it wouldn’t be all right.

“I can’t stand to know that I’ve caused you pain, Lis. If I had known it would be like this I swear I would have done things differently.” She had the sinking feeling that it meant he never would have stayed with her in the first place.

Still, her breathing slowed as Dean rubbed soothing circles on her back. Eventually he kissed her forehead and pulled away. “Come on, it’s time for you to go get ready. I’ll have a couple hours after the show. We can talk then.”

Dean held her hand on the walk back. She knew it was for the last time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**2010**

 

“Come on, come on, pick up,” Dean murmured, practically dancing with excitement. Finally the line clicked. “Sammy!” He crowed. “Guess who’s got an agent!”

“Dude, no.”

“Dude, yes.”

“Holy shit, Dean, that’s great! I’ve got a little bit of time, do you want to get a coffee and tell me about it?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the shop by your office in twenty.”

 

*

 

Dean was sitting at a small table in the back of the coffee shop when his floppy-haired brother walked in the door. The smile on his face faltered only a little bit when he saw the slight, dark-haired woman next to Sam. (Hey, give him credit; Dean was trying very hard to get along with Ruby, and most days they actually managed to not piss each other off too much.)

When Sam and Ruby got their coffees and made their way back to Dean, he stood up and gave them (both of them, thank you very much) a hug.

“So? Tell me all about it,” Sam was all smiles. You could practically see a tail wagging.

“Well, the guy’s name is Balthazar. Yeah, I know, weird, but I’ll take what I can get. He’s got an in at this publishing company—Novak Publishing, I think he said the name was—and he’s already got the manuscript over there. It’s the type of young adult novels they like to publish. It’s at the desk of one of the editors right now. Balthazar is going to give me a call in the next few days and tell me whether or not it’s a go.”

“Dean, that’s fantastic!”

“Right? I mean, I’m no child prodigy who graduated law school at twenty goddamn years old, but I may actually get my book published! And if they pick it up, Balth said part of my contract could stipulate that I get to finish out the trilogy before I’d have to re-negotiate.”

Sam pat him on the shoulder. “I’m really proud of you. So when are we celebrating?”

“Well, let’s hold off on that until I actually get word, but, uh…I’ve got some other news, too.”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “Lisa’s not pregnant, is she?”

“Why do you have to go straight for that, man?”

“Because you’ve been together for a year now, so I imagine you’re not using con—you know what? I’m not going to finish that sentence."

Ruby rolled her eyes. Sam, at least, was something they could agree on.

“Thank you. I don’t even want to know why your mind would go there. Just. Ugh. Anyway, we’re, uh, me and Lisa are getting an apartment.” Dean ignored the muttered, “Lisa and I,” and watched both of them for a reaction. It took a minute.

“Are you sure, Dean?” Ruby asked the question, but Sam had his Very Concerned Face on, and it raised Dean’s hackles.

“Yes, I’m sure.” So he couldn’t always be less-than-bitchy to Ruby. Sue him.

“…Whose idea was it?"

“Lisa’s, but—”

“I’m going to get a muffin,” Sam interrupted. “You want anything, Rube?” Ruby shook her head, and Sam got up and walked over to the counter quickly. Dean blinked.

Ruby sat there and calmly sipped her non-fat, double decaf, extra foam whatever frou-frou drink as she watched Dean. “So. You call up your girlfriend, all excited that you got an agent and that he’s sent your manuscript on to a publishing company. She suggests you move in together. You’re riding the high from success and figure, why not? She was, after all, the one who inspired your story and helped you get the words flowing. She deserves enough happiness that you can move in with her, take one for the team. Is that about right?”

Dean stared. “Jesus, woman. What the fuck?”

“So I am right. Okay, then. You realize that if you’re going to move in with someone, it’s usually a precursor to marriage. Marriage tends to rely on the two people being in love, not one person being in love and the other making the heroic sacrifice because they don’t want to break someone’s heart.”

“Hey, I love Lisa, okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. I have no doubt that you love her. In fact, I have no doubt that deep inside you love me, but you sure as shit shouldn’t marry either of us. You’re moving too fast, sweetie. She may be the best inspiration to you in the world, but just because she’s hopelessly in love with you doesn’t mean you should be Mr. Self-Sacrificing Martyr and stick with her for the rest of your life. People get hurt when that happens, Dean.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

“So you’re not denying that you’re not in love with her and you’re only staying with her from a sense of obligation. Good. There’s a start. Just think about what I said, please. Believe it or not, I love you, too. You’re going to be my brother-in-law someday, and your happiness is kind of integral to Sam’s happiness, which is integral to mine. For all our sakes, keep that in mind, please.”

Sam took his seat again and smoothly veered the conversation away from Dean’s love life and towards a new client at his firm. Dean sat in stony silence, and pushed the unsettled feeling in his stomach down. He refused to acknowledge that his brother’s fiancée was completely fucking right. He was comfortable with Lisa, and he enjoyed her presence (most of the time). Amazing as Lisa was, though, he had the singular impression they were moving too fast.

 


	3. I'm A Part of That/The Schmuel Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2013: Lisa and Dean attend a book launch party for the last installment in Dean's trilogy, where he spends most of his time with his editor, Castiel. Lisa and Dean fight.
> 
> 2010: Their first Christmas together, Dean tells a story to Lisa while giving her her Christmas present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K_A_Graves is amazing and wonderful and I am forever indebted to her beta abilities. 
> 
> Also, you get your first glimpse of Cas. I promise more comes later, and once he's fully introduced in Dean's timeline, it's chock-full of Destiel!!

**2013**

 

Lisa’s feet hurt, but being the wife of the guest of honor meant she couldn’t take her shoes off and walk around barefoot. She drank a little more champagne instead to dull her discomfort, and watched as Dean, _her_ husband, made his rounds and talked to everyone. Castiel, his editor, was at his side the whole time, and she glared at how close they stood; occasionally Castiel would brush his arm against Dean’s and Dean would lean into it for just a moment. She noticed how good they looked together, both tall and broad-shouldered. She drank more to try to stop noticing, and jumped when a hand touched her elbow.

“Can I get you a refill, darling?” Balthazar held out another glass of champagne. Lisa took it and he set her empty one on the tray of a passing waiter. Together they turned and watched Dean. “You’re a very great part of his career, you know that, right?”

“I’m his muse. That’s it. I get in the way after the ideas come.”

“The process of a writer.”

Lisa nodded. “Sometimes he’ll stare out the window for hours until I think he’s catatonic. Then he snaps out of it and starts writing like a madman without coming up for air. I’m apparently incredibly annoying if I try to rehearse while he’s writing. I think we need to soundproof the second bedroom.”

“Yes, how’s that career going by the way?”

Lisa looked away and took another drink.

“That good, eh?”

She sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, being on Broadway is a dream so many people have, and I’m up against people with ten or twenty years of experience under their belts. It’s hard, though to see—”

Balthazar arched one eyebrow. “To see Dean releasing his third book in as many years, knowing he’s such a great success, and having people always seeing you as in his shadow?”

Lisa nodded. “I think sometimes it would be easier if I didn’t have to always compare my success to his. But,” she took a deep breath. “I love him, you know? I said my vows, and I meant them. I’ll stick it out, and we’ll see it through.”

Balthazar stared at Dean for a moment, obviously considering whether or not he should say something. After a moment he patted her arm. “You’ll be fine, love. It’s not every day that a voice like yours comes along. You just have to make it in with the right people. Maybe someday when my cousin Gadreel comes to visit from Chicago, I’ll introduce you. He’s been a director out there for many years. He probably has some connections out here.”

“Wow, thank you, Balth. That is incredibly sweet of you.”

He winked. “Just remember me when you make it, and get me some tickets to opening night. I haven’t had the opportunity to go to the theater in too long.”

Lisa kissed his cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.”

“Just don’t tell anyone.”

 

*

 

The ride home was quiet. Dean was humming under his breath, and a small smile played at his lips.

“Good night?”

Dean glanced over at her. “Yeah. Yeah, it was a good night. Did you have fun?”

“The high point was when Balthazar told me he’d connect me with his cousin who is a director out in Chicago.”

Dean grinned. “See? You’ll get there, Lis.”

She looked out the window. “I just wish I didn’t have to wait so long to find out if I really will.” She felt her mood darken; the thin blanket of sadness from their fight earlier that evening settled over her. It made her angry at the world, at Dean. “I wasn’t lucky enough to get my book published on the first try.”

“Hey, whoa. I don’t want to have this fight again. My success has nothing to do with yours. We’re not starting that back up.”

“Of course, Dean. Whatever you say, Dean. You’re the boss, Dean.”

“What the fuck, Lisa? Where did this come from? Why am I suddenly the bad guy?”

“I can’t rehearse at home when you’re writing. I’m ‘too distracting’. I wonder if _that_ has anything to do with my lack of roles.”

“You have a _perfectly good_ music room to use that’s not even five minutes away! Don’t give me this shit. Just don’t. I am not the reason you’re not getting roles.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve only been auditioning for a couple of years. It’ll get better.” He stared out the windshield. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Do you think maybe we should try … you know, talking to someone? I don’t think you going to therapy alone is helping us anymore.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s better if we get over this ourselves. What if we set three nights a week where we didn’t write or rehearse? Some ‘just us’ nights?”

“Three nights a week is a lot, Lis. Between the interviews and signings and publishing parties I have to go to, I have little enough time to write as it is, and I know that you have a ton of auditions coming up in the next couple of months. I could do one night a week, how does that sound?”

“Whatever, just forget it.”

“Lisa—”

“I said forget it, Dean.” She clenched her jaw and stared out the window, silently daring him to bring it up again.

He didn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**2010**

 

Dean set his present—a new computer with the ergonomic keyboard he’d been eyeing for a few months—aside and kissed Lisa on the cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

Lisa smiled and clapped her hands together, eyes alight. “Now it’s my turn!”

Dean shook his head. “First a story. A little Christmas story. I call it, _The Story of Schmuel, Tailor of Klimovich._ ” He cleared his throat and began.

_Schmuel would work ‘til half-past ten at his tailor shop in Klimovich, get up at dawn and start again with the hems and pins and twist._

_Forty-one years had come and gone at his tailor shop in Klimovich. Watching the winter soldier on, there was one thing Schmuel missed._

_“If I only had time,” old Schmuel said, “I would build a dress that’s in my head, a dress to fire the mad desire of girls from here to Minsk. But I have no more hours left to sew.” Then the clock upon the wall began to glow._

_And the clock said, “Na na na na na na na, oh Schmuel, you’ll get to be happy. Na na na na na na na, I give you unlimited time. Na na na na na na na, so Schmuel, go sew and be happy.”_

_But Schmuel said, “No, no, it’s not my lot. I’ve got to make do with the time I’ve got.”_

_Schmuel was done at half-past ten and he said, “Goodnight, old Klimovich,” put on his coat to go, but then the clock cried, “Wait! Not yet. Even though you’re not wise or rich, you’re the finest man in Klimovich. Listen up, Schmuel, make one stitch, and you’ll see what you can get.”_

_But Schmuel said, “Clock, it’s much too late. I’m at peace with life, I accept my fate.” But the clock said, “Schmuel, one stitch and you’ll unlock the dreams you’ve lost.”_

_So Schmuel with reluctance took his thread. He pulled a bolt of velvet, and he said, “I should take out my teeth and go to bed. I’m sitting here with talking clocks instead.”_

_And the clock said, “Na na na na na na na, oh Schmuel, you’ll get to be happy. Na na na na na na na I give you unlimited time. Na na na na na na na just do it and you can be happy.”_

_So Schmuel pushed the thread through the needle’s eye, and the moon stared down from a starless sky. And he pushed the thread through the velvet black, and he looked and the clock was turning back._

_So he grabbed his shears, and he cut some lace as the hands moved left on the old clock’s face. And his fingers flew, and the fabric swirled. It was nine fifteen all around the world. Every cut and stitch was a perfect fit, as if God Himself were controlling it. And Schmuel cried through a rush of tears, “Take me back! Take me back all forty-one years!”_

_And on it went down that silent street, ‘til Schmuel’s dress was at last complete. And he stretched his arms, and he closed his eyes as the morning sun finally started to rise._

_And the dress he made on that endless night was a dress that would make any soul take flight. Not a swatch, not a skein had gone to waste, every ribbon and button ideally placed. And sewn into the seams were forty-one seasons of dreams. Dreams that you could feel coming real._

_And that very dress, so the papers swore, was the dress a girl in Odessa wore on the day she promised forever more to love a young man named ‘Schmuel’, who only one day before had knocked at her kitchen door._

“Now, plenty have hoped, and dreamed, and prayed, but they can’t get out of Klimovich. If Schmuel had been a cute _goyishe_ maid, he’d have looked a lot like you. Maybe it’s just that you’re afraid to go out on to a limb…ovich.” He grinned, but quickly smoothed out his face and began again. “Maybe your heart’s completely swayed, but your head can’t follow through.

“But shouldn’t I want the world to see the brilliant girl who inspires me? Don’t you think that now’s a good time to be the ambitious girl I know you are? Say goodbye to serving beer at the bar, and say hello to Lisa Braeden, Big Time Star. I say Lisa, you get to be happy. So here, I give you unlimited time. Stop waiting tables and go and be happy.” He produced a magazine and a business card from behind his back. “Here’s a headshot guy, and a new _Backstage_. There are tons of roles that you’re right for in there. So now take a breath, take a step, take a chance. Take your,” he pulled a long, slim jewelry box out of his pocket and opened it, “time.”

Lisa’s breath caught, and Dean smiled. He helped her fasten the watch around her wrist. “Have I mentioned today how much I believe in you?”


	4. A Summer In Ohio/The Next Ten Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2012: Lisa spends the summer in Ohio
> 
> 2011: Dean has a question for Lisa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, promise, PROMISE that Destiel is going to be the focus of the next chapter.

**2012**

Nothing would quite beat a summer in Ohio for Lisa—except maybe shoving an icepick in her eye. Or getting a root canal in Hell.

An entire summer without Dean. Instead of her husband, she was sharing a room with a former stripper and her snake (Wayne). But it was a job. She was happy to actually be _doing_ something with acting. Sure, it was a dinky little community theater two states over from where she wanted to be, but it was real acting that could go on her resume.

On a rehearsal-less day, several cast members went to Borders. She wandered over to a table where a sign read, “New and Recommended”. There, sitting prominently, was the name _Dean Winchester_ underneath the title, _Witchlight_. She picked up a copy of the book and touched it reverently.

Michael, a fellow actor, walked up (a little too closely) next to Lisa and picked up a copy. He flipped it over and read one of the reviews. “A great sequel to _Spellbound_. Dean Winchester takes us on a wondrous journey and leaves us craving more.” He looked up at Lisa and smiled, eyes lingering on her left hand. “All things considered, I guess you don’t have to buy it. 

Just to spite him, she put the book in her basket.

 

*

 

Later on the phone, she told Dean about the incident.

“Sounds like he wants you,” Dean didn’t come off as all that worried. Lisa wasn’t sure whether she should be happy that he trusted her, or upset that he wasn’t concerned.

“Well, he’s not going to get me. I’ve got you. Speaking of which, were you able to clear your schedule to come down?”

Dean scoffed. “Lisa. What kind of guy do you take me for? I’ll be there opening night. I’m really proud of you.”

“It’s community theater.”

“Everyone starts somewhere.”

Lisa nodded before she realized Dean couldn’t see her. “So how are things up there?”

“Um. They’re—things are going pretty great."

“How is it working with the Editor in Chief? What was his name—Cas, Castee, Castiel?”

“Yeah, Castiel. He’s…he’s really great. Has some good ideas.” Dean suddenly went silent. “Um, listen, Lis, I just had an idea. I should go write it down before I lose it.”

After three years together she was used to his writing moods, but there was something a little off in the way he acted. “Okay, baby. I love you.”

“Yeah, you too. Bye.” The line went dead.

“…Goodbye, Dean.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**2011**

 

The little box in Dean’s pocket felt unnaturally heavy. The talk he’d had with Sam a few days ago lingered with him, but he was determined to do this. It would make Lisa incredibly happy if they got married, and Dean was nothing if not accommodating to the people he cared about. So what if Sammy had called him a “self-sacrificing son of a bitch,” he wanted to be there for Lisa. He saw her talent, saw her drive, and he just _knew_ that she was meant for more than waitressing for the rest of her life.

Dean wanted his muse to have her dreams come true, and if that meant that he spent his life with someone he loved platonically, he could handle that. It wasn’t like the sex was bad (even if they didn’t have it too often), and Dean had been used to putting family first his entire life. Romance wasn’t something he should be concerned about. He had his writing, he had Sammy, and he made Lisa happy. So Dean would propose, they’d get married, and he would keep on keeping on.

 

*

 

Central Park was beautiful. The sun was shining out of a cloudless sky. Dean couldn’t have asked for better weather.

He and Lisa walked around the perimeter of the lake in the center of the park. He took her out onto one of the little rowboats so they could enjoy the lake. She gazed out at the water while Dean gathered his thoughts. _Come on, Winchester. There are worse sacrifices you could make_.

He put one hand in his pocket and grabbed her hand with the other. “So, Lis, would you share your life with me for the next ten minutes? Can we handle that?” At her surprised and confused nod, he went on. “We could watch the waves, or the people, or just sit and wait until the time ticks by. And if we make it until then, can I ask you for another ten?”

Lisa smiled tremulously. She probably guessed what was coming. Dean pulled his hand out of his pocket and opened the small box nestled there. “There is so much I want to share with you, Lisa. I want everyone to know that you’re my inspiration. I want to be there opening night for your first Broadway performance. I will never stop believing in you, and I hope that knowing that will be enough. So, what do you think? Will you marry me?”

There were tears standing in her eyes. She nodded and held out her left hand. He slipped the ring on and watched as it sparkled in the sun’s rays.

“I am so in love with you, Dean,” she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck. “I don’t know how anybody survives in this life without someone like you.”

Dean rubbed her back gently and kissed her, wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m nothing special. You, though, you’re gonna go far. Come on,” he picked up the oars and started rowing again, “Let’s go get dinner with Sam and Ruby.”

 

 

o.O.o

 

 

It was the happiest day of Lisa’s life. There was nothing she would rather do than spend her life with Dean. Well, she wanted to act. She _really_ wanted to act, but that hadn’t panned out so far.

Dean believed in her, though. He supported her in cutting down her hours at the bar to the bare minimum so she could focus on auditions. He was so good to her. She could hardly believe how lucky she was, to be at the courthouse signing a marriage license while Sam and Ruby and her mother looked on. _Lisa Winchester_. She would have to get a new resume.

Dean smiled at her and kissed her gently. Yes, this was where she belonged.


	5. Climbing Uphill/A Miracle Would Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Castiel.

**2011**

 

Lisa hated this. She hated standing in line with two hundred girls who were younger (and thinner) than her. They’d probably already been to the gym, too.

By the time her number was finally called she’d been standing there for five hours. She’d barely made it out to the center of the stage before the pianist played her intro—a single chord. Not much time to prepare.

“When you come home to me, I’ll wear a sweeter smile _(Why is the pianist playing so loud? Should I sing louder? I’ll sing louder.)_ and hope that for a while you’ll stay.” _(Why is the director staring at his crotch? Why is that man staring at my resume? Don’t stare at my resume, I made half of it up. Stop looking at that, look at **me**!)_

“When you come home to me, your hand will touch my face, and banish any trace of gray. _(No, not at my shoes, don’t look at my shoes. I hate these fucking shoes. Why I’d pick this song? Why’d I pick this career? Why does this pianist hate me?)_ Soon our love will rise anew, even greater than the joy I felt just missing you.”

 _(If I don’t get a callback I can go to Crate and Barrel with Mom and buy a couch. Not that I want to spend a day with Mom, but Dean needs his space to write, since I’m obviously such a horrible, annoying distraction to him. What’s it going to be like when we have kids?)_ “And once again I’ll be so proud to call you mine when finally you come home to—” The piano cut off abruptly as the director called out that he’d seen enough. “Okay. Thank you, thank you so much.”  

She wasn’t going to get a callback. Dean had a book published at twenty-four years old, and Lisa’s career was going nowhere.

**2012**

 

Dean walked into Novak Publishing with nervous apprehension twisting around in his stomach. Because of how well _Spellbound_ and _Witchlight_ had done, Anna was no longer going to be his editor. He was being pushed up the chain to none other than the Editor-in-Chief, Castiel Novak. It was a huge fucking honor, and Dean was worried he wouldn’t live up to the expectation. Everyone said Castiel was a hardass.

When he got off the elevator on the seventh floor, he was surprised to see only one large office and an assistant’s desk. He shouldn’t have been, really. Of course Castiel would have his own floor. He was the founder and Chief Editor of Novak Publishing. The guy had really made a name for himself. Dean couldn’t hold it against him if he wanted to take the penthouse for himself.

A young man with sandy hair sat at the assistant’s desk. His nameplate simply read _Alfie_. He looked up as Dean approached. “Are you Mr. Winchester?”

Dean stuck out his hand. Alfie took it. “Dean, please. But, yeah, that’s me.”

“Great. Head on back, Castiel knows you’re coming.”

Dean nodded and walked to Castiel’s door. He knocked lightly on it before sticking his head through. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of him.

Castiel was tall—Dean probably only had an inch on him at most—with dark, messy hair and gorgeous blue eyes. His shoulders and arms were every bit as muscled as Dean’s, and the tight button-down shirt and vest (god _damn_ Dean was a sucker for a man in a vest) he wore did nothing to conceal his chest and flat stomach. Dean didn’t dare take any longer to stare, but he did notice when he shook Castiel’s hand that his fingers were long and slender.

His mind reeled. He should _not_ be this attracted to someone the first time he met them. He was (kind of) happily married. There was no room in Dean’s life for straight-up lust. He pushed it down. He was good at that.

After the initial pleasantries were exchanged, Castiel gestured for him to have a seat and walked back around his desk. He pulled out a folder that contained Dean’s manuscript and flipped it open. There were red marks everywhere.

“So, Dean, I think you have a very excellent manuscript here.”

Dean gestured towards all the red. “It looks like it. I’d hate to see what you do to manuscripts you _don’t_ like.”

Castiel grinned and his eyes crinkled. Dean tried to not notice. “That’s what the other copy editors are for. Anna did wonderful work with your first and second novels. I enjoyed them very much. You have a unique writing style that I don’t want to edit that out of the story, but if you could bear with me and let me walk you through my suggestions?”

“You’re the boss.” Dean watched Castiel’s eyes linger on him for a moment before he sat up straighter and turned the folder towards Dean.

The attraction was mutual, then. But they were both professionals. They could do their jobs and ignore any physical desires. It wasn’t a problem, it was a challenge to resist temptation.

 

*

 

The summer wore on, and Dean spent more and more time in Castiel’s office. He often brought his laptop in to work, since he found the silence—which was only broken by the occasional turn of a page or the clack of keys—to be very beneficial to his work.

Edits for _Incantation_ were far quicker than they had been for his first two novels. At the rate he had been going, the book would be out by the release date _without_ Dean scrambling to meet the deadlines. Not that he ever really met deadlines, anyway.

When he wasn’t working on the edits Castiel had given him, he was writing new material. With his first trilogy complete, Dean had the ability to branch out. His contract with Novak Publishing kept him tied to the same genre, but he didn’t have to stay within the same universe he’d originally created. This time Dean was going to take inspiration from himself.

It wasn’t as though he was trying to push Lisa out by not using her to get his ideas, but most young adult novels featured a strong hero(ine) who was independent, who broke the mold and left their families to pursue their dreams. There was rarely that dependence upon home and family that they could apply to their own lives. That was where Dean came in. He could let them believe in family.

 _Saving people, one hundred fifty thousand words at a time,_ he thought wryly.

“Why are you smiling?”

Dean jumped. He hadn’t been aware that Castiel was watching him. “No reason. Just thinking about my next book.”

Castiel put his Red Pen of Doom down and stretched. “Care to talk to me about the particulars over lunch? I’m starving.”

 

*

 

They wound up at a little diner down the street aptly named “Diner”. It had become their normal place to grab food, whatever time of day. Once Castiel found out Dean’s penchant for pie, he’d insisted that Dean try their pecan. He’d been right; Dean had never found anyone else’s who came close. Their burgers were amazing, too.

While they ate, Dean told Castiel about the plot running through his head. Together they fleshed out the characters and tweaked plot points. Castiel had a perspective completely different from Dean’s, and he was thankful for it. Not only was he insightful in terms of plots and characterization, but he knew what would sell. It was a little egotistical of him, but Dean wanted all of his books to do as well as _Spellbound_ had. He knew that Castiel could help him with that.

It had been almost three months since they’d started working together, and Dean was still no closer to safely getting rid of his attraction to Castiel. If anything, it had gotten worse the more he’d gotten to know him. It went from straight-up lust to full blown, girly, chick-flick starring _feelings_.

Castiel didn’t make it any easier for Dean to cool down, either. He took his job very seriously, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the attraction between them. When they did edits now, Castiel would sometimes sit next to Dean on the couch in his office rather than putting a desk between them.

As if intelligence, ridiculously good looks, and a total disregard of personal space weren’t enough, Castiel had to go and be funny as hell, too. Most people were under the impression that he had no sense of humor, but they were wrong. His was merely dry enough that it could rival that of Neil Gaiman. Dean often found himself wiping tears from his eyes and giggling while Castiel sat there with a small, self-satisfied smile playing on his lips.

On the walk back to the office, Castiel’s arm brushed Dean’s. He wanted to lean into it. He’d never felt this level of attraction to anyone before, which was fucking pathetic. He hated himself a little bit for what he was doing, but the magnetic pull between them never relented.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to be gone for the next few days, remember.”

“Of course. Lisa’s opening night. Do send her my congratulations.” Castiel kept his eyes forward, but he moved slightly farther away from Dean at the comment. Dean didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset.

“I will. And, um, thanks, Cas.” He let the name slip, let it tumble from his lips though he _knew_ it was one step further away from the professionalism they tried so hard to maintain.  

“You don’t need to thank me, Dean,” his voice was quiet when they stepped into the elevator. The atmosphere became charged as soon as the doors closed.

Dean turned to face him. “Yeah, I do. You’ve done a lot for me over the past few months. Unclipped my proverbial wings.”

“I merely helped you see the potential you held within yourself.” Neither one of them broke eye contact. All they had to do was take one step forward—

The elevator dinged, and the door opened. Castiel looked at him a moment longer before he turned and walked into his office. Dean followed and shut the door behind him.

Castiel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly. “I don’t think you should write the new story from first person. I believe that third person limited would make this particular story flow better. Besides, first person is practically the only type of submission we’ve been getting right now, and I want you to stand out.” Okay, so now was not the time to talk about attraction. That was probably for the best.

Dean sat down and pulled his laptop over to him. “You got it, Cas.”

 

*

 

Over the next several months, when Castiel accompanied him on book tours (“Since when do editors come to book tours?”) (“I’m the Editor in Chief, Dean, I can do whatever the fuck I want,”) it took everything Dean had not to knock on Castiel’s door at night. They’d go to dinner, have a few drinks, and have a fucking _moment_ what felt like every ten goddamn minutes. He knew that they were both one reckless moment away from getting it all out in the open. Dean practically climbed the walls in frustration.

So he’d get up, thinking that _this_ was the time he’d actually knock on Cas’ door, and each time he’d think of Lisa, and go back to bed. He might be an asshole, but he was a faithful one.

 

*

 

They were at the diner again, eating pie. Dean had a bit of crust on the corner of his mouth and Castiel brushed it away with his thumb. Dean’s heart stopped for a couple of seconds.

He wanted to lick the crumbs off of Castiel’s finger.

 

*

 

Dean got Cas a mini grill to go on his balcony for Christmas. “So you don’t have to always go out to get burgers.”

“But I’m not very good at making my own, Dean.”

“I’ll have to come over sometime and show you.”

“…I would like that very much.”

 

*

 

It stopped being fun. It started to hurt every time he saw Cas, but the pain he got from it was such exquisite torture, and was preferable to _not_ seeing him, or being able to smell his cologne, or imagine just taking his hand as they walked down the hallway.

Dean stopped thinking words like _attraction_ and _lust_ and started thinking of words like _love_ and _right_ and **_love_**. He knew the moment it showed on his face, because he saw it reflected back at him from Castiel’s eyes.

 

*

 

Dean and Lisa had sex once a month at most. Neither of them particularly enjoyed it, but they both seemed to do it out of a sense of obligation. He didn’t think of her when he got off, either; it was a pair of blue eyes and chapped, pink lips.

 

*

 

He started texting Castiel. At first, they were innocuous.

 

 **Me:** If you’re interested, I know a place whose apple pie rivals The Diner’s pecan.

 **Cas** : I’d like that. Maybe tomorrow?

 **Me** : It’s a date.

 **Me** : I mean, yeah, I’ll swing by the office for lunch.

 **Cas** : I look forward to our meeting tomorrow, Dean. I will tell Alfie to clear my afternoon.

 

-

 

 **Me:** Balth has a birthday coming up soon. You wanna go in together for a gift? I never know what to get the fucker.

 **Cas** : You actually buy him presents?

 **Me** : You don’t?

 **Cas** : He’s my cousin, not my agent. I thought being related to me was present enough. Besides, he already thinks he’s God’s gift to the world, why would he need anything else?

 **Me:** …You’re something else, man.

 **Cas** : So they tell me

 **Me** : Who’s ‘they’?

 **Cas** : My harem

 **Me** : Oh? You keep a house full of blond-haired, blue-eyed beauties?

 **Cas** : I prefer dark hair and green eyes.

 

-

 

And then it stopped being so innocent.

 

 **Me** : So you know that more adult novel I’ve been working on? I’m a little stuck on a scene.

 **Cas** : As in, you’re having difficulty in writing a portion of the novel, or you’re having trouble going through a whips-and-chains, literal ‘scene’?

 **Cas** : Give me some context, and I’d be glad to help you with either.

 **Me** : Holy shit, Cas.

 **Cas** : I don’t think our readers would be into scat play.

 **Me** : You gonna help me, or what?

 **Cas** : Of course, Dean. I’m always happy to help you, in any way I can. So what is giving you trouble?

 **Me** : I’m kind of blocked on what words to use. Can I send you what I’ve got and you tell me what you think?

 **Cas** : Send away.

 **Me** : I can't take this charade any longer. You want me. I want you inside me. I want to feel you fill me up.

 **Me** : she moaned.

 **Cas** : I want to be surrounded by your tight heat. I need to watch you as you come. I want to hear my name gasping out of your mouth until all other words are lost to you.

 **Cas** : What else, Dean?

 **Me** : I want to cover every inch of your skin with my tongue. I want you to be the one to wring every last moan out of my shaking body.

 **Me** : To make me writhe under your touch

 **Me** : Aching and full as you thrust into me.

 **Cas** : Dean …

 **Me** : How’s that sound? Too much?

 **Cas** : No. I think your readers will be very…moved by that.

 **Me** : Well, so long as my editor approves. I don’t know how it’ll sound out loud, though.

 **Cas** : Bring it in to the office when you get a chance. I’d like to hear you read it to me.

 **Me** : Yeah, Cas. I’ll bring it in after we finish everything for Incantation.

 

Dean deleted the texts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to viscouslover for all her wonderful, fantastic help! She is my blue-haired goddess. <3


	6. I Can Do Better Than That/If I Didn't Believe In You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2010: Dean gives Lisa news of his new agent
> 
> 2013: Launch party for Dean's third book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The launch party is the same one we saw from Lisa's perspective in Chapter 3.
> 
> P.S. Thank you for all the kudos and comments! Y'all are making me blush. They are my life's blood, though. You're the best. I love each and every one of you.

**2010**

Lisa tapped her fingers impatiently on the table and shifted in the booth. And she thought _she_ was the tardy one. As though summoned, Dean finally walked up and kissed her cheek. He was grinning from ear to ear when he slid into the seat opposite her.

“Why are you so happy?”

Dean spread his arms. “I did it! I got an agent.”

“That’s fantastic, sweetie! I’m really proud of you!” She stared at Dean’s face, so alight with happiness. God, she loved this man. “Move in with me.”

That made him pause. “What?”

Well, cat was out of the bag. “Listen, Dean, before you hide your feelings behind sarcasm and alcohol. I don’t mean to put on any pressure, but I know when something’s right. You’ve got an agent, you’ve _really_ got the potential to go somewhere. And I love you so much, baby. Think of what’s great about you and me, and where we can go from here.” She took his hands. “Move in with me.”

Dean blinked. He looked down at their joined hands. Lisa waited through one breath. Two. Seven. After twelve breaths he looked up and met her eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s finish lunch, then I’ve got to go call Sam, let him know.”

 

 

**2013**

 

The launch party for _Incantation_ was going to start in thirty minutes, and instead of already being on the road so he could find a good parking spot, Dean was standing in his bedroom watching Lisa sulk.

“Lisa, listen to me. There are people publishing my book. They’re throwing a party, and regardless of whether or not you’re going, _I_ will be going.” She stood there silently, very obviously refusing to meet his eyes. “Come on, what’s this really about? I don’t think this is about a freaking party. Can you please stop blaming and just _tell me_ what’s going on?”

Lisa stared down at her hands. Her voice was soft. “It’s just … I’m not. You’re doing everything and I’m … not. Do you even care? Why are you still here? Do you think I’m worth it?”

Dean took two steps forward and wrapped his arms around Lisa. “You think that I don’t believe in you? Lis, if I didn’t think you could do anything you ever wanted, I wouldn’t be standing here. I’d’ve been gone four years ago.” He moved them over to sit on the edge of the bed.  

“Why do we have to go to another party with the same twenty jerks you already know? Yay, so you’ve written your third book. Good for you.”

Dean pulled back. He couldn’t help the hardness that seeped into his voice at her words. “You know, I have never shown anything but support for your career, even when you didn’t believe in yourself. So if I’m cheering on your side, why can’t you support mine? Why do you make me feel like I’ve committed a goddamn felony doing what I _always_ swore I would do?”

“I keep getting rejected, Dean. Every time I don’t get a callback it hurts.”

“I don’t want you to hurt, Lis. That’s the absolute last thing I want. I know you’re gonna be just fine. But, even if I give you all the support I can, no one can give you courage or thick skin. That all comes from you.” He cupped her cheek. “Our successes should have nothing to do with each other. I will _not_ fail so you can be comfortable. I will not lose just because you’re not winning right now. But you will win, I promise. You just have to keep trying. Now,” he kissed her cheek, “why don’t you put your dress on and we’ll go."

Lisa nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek.

 

*

 

Dean walked around the party. He hated the schmoozing he had to do, but Balthazar said it was necessary, so he did it.

Castiel materialized at his side proffering a glass of champagne. Dean accepted it gladly. Their fingers brushed. “Stick with me, Cas,” he whispered.

A small smile played at Castiel’s lips. “I won’t leave your side, Dean.” He pressed his shoulder all along Dean’s arm, and Dean leaned into him slightly.

He turned his head, looking for Lisa. When he saw her standing with Balthazar and kissing his cheek fondly, he smiled. He caught her eye and winked. She beamed back at him, their fight from earlier forgotten for the moment.

Balthazar said something to Lisa then started walking towards Dean. He jerked his head in the direction of a private corner where they could talk. Dean nodded, then turned to Castiel to let him know he’d be right back. Cas murmured his assent, and then Dean and Balthazar were as alone as two people could be at a book party.

“Be careful there, darling,” Balthazar didn’t preface anything. He didn’t have to.

Dean wiped a hand across his face. “I can’t help it. I’ve tried, Balth, okay? I’ve _tried_.”

Balthazar put his hand affectionately on Dean’s shoulder. “I know. So has our dear Cassie. But I also know you’re both beginning to fail miserably. It’s only a matter of time before one of you breaks and tells the other that you’re in love with them. That’s going to be a bad day for everyone involved unless you sort things out with Lisa. Be fair to her, Dean. Be fair to Cassie, and be fair to yourself. I’m telling you this as your friend and as Cassie’s cousin. I don’t want to have to kick your ass for personal reasons and then get fired.”

Dean licked his lips and looked away. “I don’t think I can just up and leave her. I _do_ love her.”

“Just because you love someone, darling, doesn’t mean you should stick around and screw up their life.”

 “Do you _really_ think it’ll be worse on Lisa if I stay?”

“Yes. Absolutely and unequivocally, yes. Stop being a moron. Let her go, and go be with the man you’re actually in love with. If you don’t let her go, then you need to let Castiel go. Those are your only options, Dean.”

Dean looked towards Castiel, who saw him watching and smiled. Dean gave a half-hearted wave.

“Think about what I’ve said. Now come on, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Go back to your editor.”

Dean watched Balthazar walk away. It was several minutes before Cas walked back up to him.

“Should I remind you the intricacies of a party thrown in your honor? You should probably not be standing alone in a corner.”

“I’m not alone. You’re with me.”

Castiel tilted his head. “What are you upset about? What did Balthazar say?”

“He, uh…nothing. It wasn’t anything important.”

“Does it matter to you that we both know you’re lying?”

Dean reached out and touched Castiel’s cheek. He couldn’t help it.  “Can’t tell you the truth yet, Cas.” Castiel’s eyes softened. He nodded, then gestured out towards where the rest of the guests were mingling.

“Well then. Let’s go out and entertain the masses.”

 

*

 

Lisa was silent the rest of the ride home after their fight. She didn’t say a word to him as she got ready for bed and turned out the light. Dean was confused, angry, and just _tired_ of juggling this internal struggle constantly. Things used to be so simple for them. She supported his writing, he supported her acting. Then he got picked up by Novak Publishing, and she had only gotten the one role in the summer community theater in Ohio, and suddenly it wasn’t simple anymore. Dean hadn’t even met Cas when Lisa had started getting angry and distant. She had started going to see a doctor. It had helped for a little bit, but Dean guessed that her biological chemistry wasn’t the root cause of her unhappiness.

It was them.

He was stupid, of course. He had thought that getting married to someone he wasn’t in love with wouldn’t hurt anyone but himself, and in order to make Lisa happy, he had been willing to make that sacrifice. But now _she_ was hurting, and Cas...

 _Cas_. Dean’s stomach clenched at the thought of the man with blue eyes and a scruffy face who had unwittingly stolen his heart.

He couldn’t keep this to himself. He couldn’t talk to Cas about it, and he certainly wasn’t going to talk to Lisa. After making sure she was still asleep, Dean pulled out his phone. It was a 50/50 shot as to whether or not it was a good idea, but he didn’t really have anyone else he could trust to talk to about a situation as … delicate as the one he was in.

 **Me:** Hey, you got a minute? I have to get something off my chest.

 **Ruby:** What, the fact that you fell in love with your editor and now you’re worried about what it’s going to do to Lisa? How about something I haven’t known for almost two years?

 **Me** : What the fuck? I haven’t told anyone.

 **Ruby** : Please, Dean. You won’t shut up about him and your eyes light up whenever his name is mentioned. So what do you need to get off your chest? Did you cheat on Lisa?

 **Me** : No! Absolutely not. But…I kind of want to. I know that’s shitty of me, but jfc I don’t know what the hell there’s left to do.

 **Me** : I never thought being married to that beautiful, wonderful woman would be a punishment.

 **Ruby** : Leave her.

 **Me** : That’s your grand, sage advice?

 **Ruby** : Yes. For real, it’s what’s best for all of you. Sam agrees.

 **Me** : YOU TOLD SAM?!

 **Ruby** : He brought it up to me, dumbass. Do it. You’ll all be happier and I’ll be able to stop having these dumb conversations with you and Sam. Honestly, you two are the worst.

 **Ruby** : Leave her, Dean. Before it gets too messy.

 **Ruby** : And delete these messages.

 

 

*

 

Dean brought Castiel a potted plant for his office. It was still there (and flourishing) ten years later.

 

*

 

Castiel brought in his lunch occasionally. When he did, he always brought enough to share with Dean, who accepted everything but the vegetables.

Dean complained that Cas was worse than Sam when it came to trying to poison him with rabbit food.

 

*

 

Eighteen months after Dean had met Castiel, he no longer remembered what it felt like to not be in love. It was a shame that the person he was in love with wasn’t his wife.

It was a shame that she probably thought the same thing about him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Goodbye Until Tomorrow/I Could Never Rescue You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2009: After their first date
> 
> 2014: The end. And the beginning.

**2009**

 

What had started out as a regular, boring day for Lisa ended as a day she knew she’d remember forever. The handsome man walking next to her was funny, sweet, charming, and did she mention gorgeous?

They stopped at her stoop. “Well, this is me.”

Dean crowded close to her. She backed up onto the first step so they were eye to eye. He hesitated for a moment, studying her face, and then his hand came up to cup her cheek and his mouth closed in on hers. It was sweet, almost chaste. It was exactly the type of first kiss she had always dreamed of, not the too-much-tongue, teeth-clashing grossness she had always gotten. Anything he could have said to make the night better was wrapped up inside this one, perfect kiss.

He smiled softly when she pulled away. “So,” he put his hands in his pockets, “this was fun.”

“It was. I should go in, though. So, I guess, goodbye? Until tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, until tomorrow. ‘Night, muse.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**2014**

 

This was probably a bad idea, but Dean couldn’t help himself. “Hey, Cas?”

Castiel looked up from the manuscript in front of him. His glasses (holy fuck, those glasses had been distracting him for two years) had slipped down his nose and he pushed them up absently with one finger. “Hmm?”

“You wanna call it a night, I’ll make you some burgers and we can hang out at my place? I’ll even let you pick the movie.”

Castiel stared at him for a moment. He was probably going through the same internal struggle that Dean had earlier that day. Dean wondered if they had both reached their breaking point. Two years was a very long time to hold off on an attraction that you _knew_ was reciprocated.

An adorable little smile played on Castiel’s face. “I think I would like that very much, Dean. I’ll follow you.”

And so the end began.

 

*

 

Armed with burgers, sweet potato fries, and good beer, Dean sat on the couch while Cas chose a movie. He popped it into the DVD player and joined Dean, who couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the way their thighs were pressed together.

The movie started and they ate in silence, elbows bumping every now and again from being too close, but neither of them made any move to put space between them.

All too soon their food was gone, and Dean was unsure of what to do with his hands. Cas seemed to have no such compunction. He settled back on the couch, his whole right side pressed against Dean’s left. His head inched closer to Dean’s shoulder the longer the movie wore on. It was driving Dean crazy. He instigated this, and it was up to him to see it through.

Dean noticed Castiel’s empty beer bottle, and took the opportunity of grabbing more to gather himself for a minute. He took a few slow, deep breaths. It was time.

Beers in hand, Dean walked back to Cas and sat down, just as close as before. He proffered a bottle towards Castiel, who let his hand linger on Dean’s for far more time than was strictly necessary while passing a drink. Yeah, it was definitely time. He could do this.

“Cas,” he began.

Castiel’s eyes didn’t leave his. “Wait. Before you begin, I have to say this, while I still have the mental capacity to do so.” He turned so they were facing each other. Dean’s chest clenched. He really hoped this wasn’t going to end with him rejected and crying in a bathroom later. “You have to know how I feel about you, Dean. Just as I know how you feel about me. But I can’t do this,” he gestured between them, “not if it means that I will be complicit in adultery. I will not be the ‘other man’. So,” he took a deep breath, “so please understand that before you continue.”

“I’m leaving Lisa.” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but it seemed like the declaration of feelings would have to come after the tough part.

“Don’t do this because of me, Dean. I don’t want to be the cause—”

“Cas, stop.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “Jesus, this is coming out all wrong. Okay, listen, I have never been in love with Lisa. I love her, yeah, but not like a husband should love his wife. I had been content to continue my life with her because there had been no good reason to leave. Now we’re _all_ miserable because I fucked up. I did the wrong thing, and now I’m going to fix it. It’s going to suck for a while, but leaving her is the first step towards making things right. For all of us.”

“When are you going to do this?”

“Tomorrow. I’m driving to Ohio for her opening night. I know it’s a shitty time to do it, but I can’t pretend any longer, not when you’re actually here with me.” Cas smiled at that, and it made him shiver. He’d never gotten this feeling with Lisa.

Cas took his hand, kissed his palm. “Does this mean I finally get to tell you that I’ve been in love with you for two years?”

Dean let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess, if I can tell you the same. Can—um, can I kiss you?”

The air thickened between them. Anticipation surged through him and Dean leaned forward slightly. Finally, _finally_ , two years after he first wished it, Cas came to him and their lips met. Almost immediately, Castiel’s tongue flicked against Dean’s lower lip. Dean opened up to him and they tasted one another. Castiel tasted like burgers and beer and salt and _Cas_. Their kiss was needy and hungry and _exactly_ what Dean wanted out of a kiss. And damn, could Castiel Novak kiss.

Cas groaned and pushed at Dean, moving them backward until they were lying on the couch, pressed together as their hands discovered each other. Cas was muscular, and the different weight and shape of him felt incredible in Dean’s arms. It was everything he’d been waiting for from the first month they’d known each other. He slipped a hand underneath the hem of Cas’ shirt and tentatively explored the skin at his lower back. He wanted to do more, wanted so much to let his mouth get to know every inch of Castiel’s skin, but he knew he shouldn’t.

Reluctantly, Dean pulled back. “We should stop for now, Cas.” He pushed their foreheads together. “God, I want you so bad, but we’ve been waiting for two years, what’s another two days?”

Castiel nodded and exhaled slowly. He sat up. “So what now?”

Dean eyed him. “Well, first you should probably get off me.”

Cas looked down at his legs where they straddled Dean’s hips. “Apologies.” They moved until they were both sitting up, faces flushed. “I’d like to be with you, Dean. But not here.”

“No, no not here. Um, is it presumptuous to ask to stay at your place for a few days until I can find another apartment?”

Castiel smiled. “Of course; you’re welcome to stay with me for as long as you desire. I may not let you go, in fact, if I have my way.”

“I guess I should warn you, I’m not the best of roommates.”

“Do you think that after two years of spending all day together, five days a week, I _don’t_ know all your dirty habits?” Cas held up his hand, and counted off on his fingers. “You are terrible at deadlines, you leave your clothes everywhere, you’re up far too early for any decent human being, you spend days at a time ignoring everything and everyone when you’re writing, you have terrible taste in coffee, and I don’t think I have _ever_ seen a vegetable pass your lips unless it was on a pizza.”

Dean grinned. “Oh yeah? You bitch like a little kid if there’s _one_ ice cube in your drink, you’ve only seen _Star Wars_ once, you’re at the office far too much, you’re a neat freak, you iron your freaking jeans, you have excellent taste in pie, you’re not afraid to tell me to fuck off when I have a shit idea for my writing, you’ve got a great sense of humor, and you’re the kindest, most attractive man I have ever met. Goddamn it, Cas,” he moved forward and kissed him again, “please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

A small smile played at Castiel’s lips. “I can assure you, Dean, you are very much awake. Come on, I’ll help you pack your things, and I’ll get a key made for you tomorrow before you leave for Ohio.”

 

*

 

“So how long have you been in love with him?”

“Jesus, Lis, do you really want to know that?”

“Just answer the fucking question, Dean. I think I’m entitled to that much.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know. It was gradual.” He held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture when she gave him a _don’t fuck with me_ look. “I guess…almost a couple of years.”

“So basically the _entire fucking time_ you’ve known him.” Lisa put her hand to her mouth. “Jesus Christ, Dean! How have I not seen it? How did I not notice that you’d been sleeping around for that fucking long?” She sat down hard.

Dean approached her, hand outstretched. “Lisa, wait. _Wait_. I have not cheated on you. I promise you that. I may be the biggest asshole in the world by doing this to you, but I _promise_ you that I have remained faithful.”

“Yeah, except you fell in love with him. You know, it probably would have been better if it were just a physical thing. We could have dealt with it, moved past it. But how could you _fall in love_ with someone else? With a _guy_?!”

He took a deep breath. He wouldn’t lose patience with her. This was the worst day of her life, understandably. He needed to keep his cool. “I’ve told you about my past. Don’t bring the fact that...don't bring my sexuality into this. And, look, I have something that might be painful to hear, but I think I should probably tell you.”

“What, Dean? What could _possibly_ be worse than you leaving me because you’re in love with someone else? With having my entire family think I turned you gay? Please tell me, because I’m positively _dying_ to know.”

 _Man up, Winchester. Look her in the eye when you tell her_. “It would have ended sooner or later between us, Lis, with or without Cas. I’m not … I’m not in love with you, Lisa. I never was.”

There. He said it. Biggest fucking secret of their relationship, and it was their undoing. Dean should be completely and utterly ashamed of himself—and he was—but there was some sick part of him, deep down, that was only relieved.

“Oh, my god.” Lisa searched his eyes for a minute, waiting for the punchline or something, but she found only regret in his eyes. Her face crumpled.

He wanted to reach out to her and hold her, tell her it would be okay, but he knew that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t his place, not after the mess he’d caused. His throat constricted. Tears he never thought he’d cry came out. “I could never rescue you, no matter how hard I tried. And believe me, I tried. For many years. All I could do was love you the best I could, but when it started hurting you and Cas more than it hurt me, I had to let you go.”

“Love me the _best you could_?! So falling in love with your goddamn editor was loving me the best you could? No, don’t try to say anything more. Get out, Dean. Get the _fuck_ out.”

“Goodbye, Lisa.”

He left.

 

*

 

Dean pressed the heel of his hand against his eye, his other hand on the wheel. The talk with Lisa had gone…not as horrible as he'd expected. He had honestly expected to leave with a black eye, not just some harsh words.

His phone was in his hand and he had dialed Castiel almost before he knew what he was doing. Cas picked up after the second ring. “Dean. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. No. Fucking shit, man, I don’t know. I just officially left my wife. It’s over, it’s done. And, Jesus fucking Christ I’m going to be the biggest asshole in the world for basically moving in with you literally the next fucking day.”

“Do you… want me to back off?”

“No. Absolutely not. Jesus, no, please don’t think that. I didn’t break it off with Lisa just to fuck it up with you. Goddamn it, Cas, you’re the only thing that’s starting to make sense in my life right now.”

“Thank God. I hate being selfish, but I don’t want to lose you after I just got you. How long until you’re home?”

Dean smiled in spite of himself. “ _Home_. I like the sound of that word coming from you. I just left, so seven or eight-ish hours if I drive straight through with no traffic. Then I’ll crash for a few hours until I have to get up for the review party.”

“I’ll have the rest of your things over here by then. I think one more trip should do it.”

The thought of never going back to that apartment held a sick mix of relief and sadness for Dean. And if that made him a jackass, then he could accept that. Dean was pretty good at putting blame on his shoulders.

“Thanks, Cas.”

“I’ll see you at home, Dean.”

 

*

 

The review party was never going to end. Dean was sure that it was planned that way just to torture him while he stood by Cas all night and didn’t touch him.

Balthazar knew (because of _course_ Balthazar knew) and there was a really awkward moment where he tried to show he wasn’t encouraging them but all three of them knew he was happy that everything was out in the open(ish). But apparently he could only stand to be around them for so long. About three hours in, he finally threw his hands in the air. “I can’t take it anymore. Get out of here and go fuck so I don’t have to see you making sweet, tender eye sex with each other for the rest of the night.”

Castiel wasted no time in making curt goodbyes and hustling Dean out the door. The ride back to his ( _their_ ) apartment was quick, but they weren’t really in a hurry. This had to be done right.

Once inside their home, they removed their shoes and jackets before wandering slowly into the bedroom. Dean had slept in there earlier that day, but he had been alone, and the bed had seemed too big and too cold. Now it stood, warm and inviting.

A whisper of fabric against fabric was the only noise as Dean undid Castiel’s tie. Button by button he slowly undressed them both. Not a single kiss had been shared, but it was already the most intimate experience Dean had ever had.

Once they were both shirtless, Cas moved forward and buried his face in the juncture between Dean’s neck and shoulder. His arms came around and pressed Dean firmly into him. Dean brought his own arms up to return the embrace.

“Stay with me, Dean,” Cas whispered.

“Hey,” Dean put his hand under Cas’ chin and made him look up. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise you, Cas, that I am in this with you one hundred percent.” He ran his hand up and down Cas’ back. “I love you. I’m _in love_ with you. I’m not sure if I ever actually said it out loud. I mean, you obviously know, but I guess it’s nice to hear it.”

Cas ghosted his lips over Dean’s. “It’s very nice to hear it.” He paused, their breath mingling. “Are we doing the right thing?”

Dean’s hand stopped its path. “I think so. I really do. I mean, this is a really fucked up situation, Cas, but we did the right thing. As shitty as this may make me sound, you are everything I could ever hope for, and I’m just glad that you waited around for me.”

A sheen of tears stood in Castiel’s eyes when he closed them to kiss Dean. “I will always wait for you. I love you.”

Warmth spiraled up into Dean’s belly. “Say that again.”

“I love you.”

“I have been waiting to hear that from you for the longest time. I almost can’t believe that this is happening, that I really get to keep you.”

“Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Apparently.” Dean kissed him then, slow and sweet. They had time. He wanted to make good on his earlier desire to learn every bit of Castiel’s skin with his mouth. He started working his way along Cas’ jaw and down his throat.

Hands slowly crept along, opened belts and undid zippers until fabric pooled around their feet. Using fingers and mouths and tongues, they undressed each other and moved to the bed. They sank down into the mattress with soft gasps and half-words that broke off into moans. Dean continued his exploration of Castiel, traced his hands over every dip and curve of muscle, registered every flicker of pleasure that moved across Cas’ face.

Dean didn’t stop until Castiel grabbed him and reversed their positions, leaving Dean lying on the bed and at Castiel’s mercy. He let the long, tapered fingers he’d often dreamt about skim his body, lips and tongue followed behind to taste every freckle. Castiel opened him up with his mouth, letting his tongue sink into the tight heat before letting his fingers join. Dean gasped for breath and begged Cas to enter him.

On a hushed, broken, “ _Please_ ,” they came together, bodies rolling in a rhythm that moved them inexorably closer to their release as they tangled hands in hair and tongues in mouths. Castiel wrapped a hand around Dean, worked him in time with his own hips, mouths whispering across each other with cries of _yes, there, just like that, don’t stop, right there_.

Castiel was the first to go over the edge, spilling inside Dean while still driving him to his own end. It didn’t take long before Dean followed him, the name tumbling off his lips one he hadn’t thought he’d ever get to say out loud.

After they cleaned up and crawled back into bed, Castiel wrapped himself around Dean and rested with his head on Dean’s chest. He let out a happy sigh when Dean’s arms encircled him. There wasn’t any way for them to be closer.

Dean kissed Cas’ hair, and gently rubbed his back until they were both sound asleep.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the story, as far as staying even remotely true to the musical goes. But I can't stand loose ends and even slightly unhappy endings, so the eighth chapter is the epilogue. 
> 
> I can't thank you all enough for reading this, for sticking this far with me. All your kudos and comments have made this (very) rough week a lot better.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you didn't get enough smut and feels.

**2024**

Dean watched as Castiel stood in front of the mirror and attempted to tie his tie. He undid the crooked knot yet again and growled in frustration. Dean stepped in front of his husband and took the piece of bright blue silk in his own hands, light reflecting dully off his wedding ring as he tied a Windsor knot. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Cas’ lips. “You look good, babe,” he said as he eyed Castiel up and down approvingly, “but now we’ve got to go or we’ll be late.”

Castiel’s eyes gleamed. He reached forward and rand his hands down Dean’s chest, his fingers dipping just inside his pants. “You are looking delectable tonight, Dean.” The first two fingers of his right hand slipped lower, caressing. Dean’s dick gave an appreciative twitch. Cas smiled. “Good enough to eat, in fact.”

As he sank to his knees and began undoing his husband’s pants, Dean’s head fell back. “ _Fuck_ , Cas, as much as I want to do this now, we’ve really got to go.” His pants were already around his ankles, his dick straining against his underwear.

Cas mouthed at his cock through his underwear, getting the material wet and creating delicious friction. “Then I guess I’ll have to be quick, as much as I want to take my time choking on your cock before you fuck me against the wall.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean whispered, allowing Cas to push him back far enough that he could brace himself against the dresser. Castiel pulled down Dean’s underwear, swallowing him down without preamble while he shoved a hand down his own pants and began stroking himself. “Fuck! Shit, baby, I love it when you do this. Come on, look at me while you suck my cock.” He put his hand through Cas’ hair and tugged a little, eliciting a moan. Cas looked up at him with his big, blue eyes, and Dean knew he would be coming in no time at all.

Still bobbing up and down on his cock, Castiel worked his hand faster, a dribble of pre-come forming at the tip. “That’s it, baby, just like that. Think about what I’m gonna do to you later when we get home. Put you on your hands and knees and eat out your ass, is that what you want? Want me to lick and suck your tight little hole before I stuff my cock in there, make you scream? Fuck, Cas, you’re gonna make me come like this. Just like this, baby, make me come down your throat, _fuck_ —” Dean closed his eyes and threw his head back as he pulsed inside of Cas’ mouth. Castiel was still jerking his own cock furiously while he swallowed every drop of come.

As soon as he came down, Dean dropped to his knees and swirled his tongue around the tip of Cas’ cock before suckling it and letting Castiel jerk off into his mouth. It wasn’t long before he was coming in short, hard bursts.

They tucked themselves back in and did up their pants, faces flushed and still panting slightly. Dean grinned. “You’re insatiable.”

“You love me.” Cas kissed him.

Dean’s eyes softened. He cupped Cas’ cheek in his hand. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I do.” He turned towards the mirror to fix his shirt, and Cas came up behind him, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“I love you more every day, you know that?”

Dean’s brows drew together. “What’s bringing this on, love?”

“I sent out the flowers today.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned in Dean’s eyes. Flowers for Lisa, delivered with a note attached. _I never stopped believing in you. Break a leg._ Ten years together and eight years of blissful marriage later, and Cas sometimes needed reassurance that their love hadn’t broken anything or anyone beyond repair.

Dean turned, brushed his fingertips across Cas’ jaw, and kissed him. “Baby, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Not a single day goes by that I’m not amazed at how lucky I am that I get to keep you. I love you, Cas. I love you so much.” He brought their foreheads together.

“We did the right thing?”

“Of course. No one says differently. Hell, if you suggested to Lis today that we go back to the way things were she’d probably punch you.” Cas chuckled. “What?”

“Well, I asked her a number of years ago if she forgave me, and she likened me to a serendipitous knife wound. She said it hurt like hell at the time, but it turned out the stabbing came with a great physical therapist. When I told her that I wished we could have done things differently, she did actually threaten to punch me.”

Dean kissed Cas’ forehead. “See? Everything worked out for the best. Now come on, or we really will be late.”

*

Dean and Cas walked up to the theater hand-in-hand. He started to get nervous, like a parent at their kid’s first performance rather than an ex-husband at his ex-wife’s first Broadway show. He took solace at the steady presence at his side, the firm grip of Cas’ fingers laced through his.

They made their way to their seats, and Cas flipped idly through his program while they waited for the lights to dim. He paused, reading something, then elbowed Dean. “Look, love,” he pointed to the blurb beneath Lisa’s bio.

Dean leaned over so he could get a better look. _(Ms. Braeden) would like to thank her fiancée, Gadreel, for being her shelter from the storm and her rock; Balthazar Novak for helping her make the right connections; Dean Winchester, the man who never stopped believing in her; and his husband, Castiel Novak, for opening her wings and forcing her to fly._

Dean took Cas’ hand. “Love you,” he murmured.  

Gently, reverently, Castiel kissed him. “Love you, too.”

“Oh come on, wankers, enough with the public displays. We get it, you’re sickeningly cute, greatest love story ever told, yadda yadda. I have a show to enjoy.” Balthazar took the seat next to Dean and held up his program threateningly. “Don’t make me hit you on the nose to stop you. I’ll do it.”

Dean wrapped his arm around Balthazar’s neck and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I love you, too, Balth.”

“I would thank you to keep your hands off of my date, and return them to your gloriously god-like husband,” Bela Talbot, annoyingly British girlfriend of Balthazar, took Dean’s arm from around Balthazar’s neck and flung it back at him. 

At the comment of _god-like husband_ , Cas grinned. “I would have to agree with Ms. Talbot.”

The house lights went down and Balthazar shushed them all, muttering about _uncouth louts_ as a soft piano melody flowed through the hall. A spotlight went up on Lisa. She began to sing.

_Jamie is over, and Jamie is gone/ Jamie’s decided it’s time to move on/ Jamie has new dreams he’s building upon/ And I’m still hurting._

Dean held his husband’s hand and watched in awe as the audience fell in love with the girl who had been his muse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you're interested, [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujHlChTlC3Q) is a link to the song Lisa sang at the end. It's (fittingly, I think), "Still Hurting", the first song to _The Last Five Years_.
> 
> Also, I found out that they're making a movie out of the musical, starring Anna Kendrick. I am incredibly excited, and I urge you all to check out the trailer: [Found here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FKjLJZdycI).
> 
> Comments and kudos are my my life's validation. I welcome them greatly.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to the ladies of the ECKC for all their support! 
> 
> [My Tumblr.](http://eveanyn.tumblr.com/)


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